Double
by The Midnight Avenger
Summary: For all its glory, StarClan has little pity for those who are different from regular Clan cats. For them, Willowleaf and Halfpaw of RiverClan are no different than rogues or traitors, and will be treated as such.


**A/N: Before you start reading, I need to issue a warning. This story will contain adult themes such as gender identity, depression, split personalities, and self-harm. Viewer discretion is advised.**

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><p><em>The reeds lining the river bucked and rattled in the storm, the river itself dark and churning with rainwater. Willow trees and birches swayed elegantly in the face of the wailing wind, which drove fat raindrops through the air in every direction, and the sky frothed with massive, heavy clouds. Thunder rumbled ominously beyond the Twolegplace.<em>

_An island ringed with foliage split the grey water of the thrashing river, its banks pounded relentlessly by the choppy waves. Feline pairs of eyes glazed with uneasiness dotted the clearing, their possessors hidden among the reeds. There was faint rustling as cats moved about within the relative safety of the plant life, and dim swatches of color flashed between the rain-soaked stems._

_Under a protective roof of the thick reeds, a pale silver tabby lay in a nest of moss and feathers, her long coat gleaming in the half light. Her tail laid listlessly beside her body, and her chin rested on the lip of the nest, cloudy blue eyes staring unseeingly at the wall. Her denmates, a brown tabby and a tortoiseshell, took turns napping and glancing over at her worriedly._

_After a while, the brown tabby leaned over to whisper into the tortoiseshell's ragged ear, who nodded and slipped out into the rain. Once she had gone, the tabby tom slowly got to his paws, joints stiff with age, and padded over to the silver she-cat. She didn't acknowledge his presence beyond a slight twitch of her tail, and the tom frowned. He crouched down before her and gently prodded her shoulder. She stirred slightly and turned her head away._

_The tom's green eyes flashed with concern, and he nosed her cheek. Her fur was matted under his muzzle, causing him to wonder if she had been properly washing herself._

_"Come on, now," he rasped softy. The she-cat shifted her weight and raised her head slightly, turning towards the sound of his voice. His lips curved in a smile. "That's it," he purred. "Follow my voice."_

_The silver she-cat's milky eyes sought out the tabby and gathered her front paws beneath her chest to push herself up, but before she could get very far her legs gave out. The tom gasped - her ribs appeared through her silver fur, and her belly was hollow. The brown tabby laid a large paw over her own and whispered, "That was fantastic, Willowleaf." The she-cat flinched away from his touch and curled her body into a tight ball, making him sigh. He glanced towards the entrance of the shady den as the tortoiseshell appeared, her thick fur dripping and a fat trout clenched firmly in her jaws._

_The brown tom padded over to her, waiting silently as she dropped the fish and shook out her pelt. "How is she?" she inquired, casting a worried look at the unmoving striped form of Willowleaf. The tom followed her eyes and sighed again._

_"She tried to stand," he rumbled simply._

_The tortoiseshell's green eyes widened happily. "That's great news, Owleye!" she exclaimed. The brown tabby shook his broad head helplessly, and a look of confusion passed over her mottled face. "What's wrong?" she mewed gently._

_"She's a mess, Honeywhisker," Owleye confessed hoarsely. "She was too weak to make it even halfway upright. Her fur is matted, and she hasn't been eating enough. I can see her ribs, for StarClan's sake." The tortoiseshell she-cat was taken aback at his revelation, her eyes clouding. After a moment, she retrieved the trout and padded determinedly toward the silver tabby, with the brown tom trailing behind her and crouching alongside the she-cat._

_Willowleaf stirred when Honeywhisker placed the fish at the edge of her nest and sat, the tantalizing smell tickling her nostrils. With slow, gradual movements, she uncurled her body and lifted her head, breathing in the scent of prey. She felt a tail pass over her left ear encouragingly as she pulled the fish into her nest, the scales smooth against her rough paw pads. For a moment, she simply laid in the moss with the fish at her paws until she heard a rough meow._

_"I thought you'd like trout," Honeywhisker murmured gently, like a mother to her kit. Willowleaf's body went rigid at her words, her fur bristling, and the tortoiseshell's eyes widened. Internally, the silver tabby battled with her own gnawing hunger and the pang of heartbreak she felt. Eventually the hunger won, and she dipped her head to take a bite of the trout. The delicious flavor flooded her mouth, and she ravenously tucked in as her aching belly cried out for more. Within moments, the plump fish was reduced to a pile of bones, which were promptly picked clean._

_Owleye purred, "Wonderful, just wonderful," and Honeywhisker looked infinitely pleased with herself. The tabby she-cat raised her head, her pink tongue swiping over her jaws, and twitched her ears toward the brown tom when he spoke. He touched his nose to her shoulder and was pleased when she stiffened, but didn't pull away._

_"Shall I fetch another fish?" Honeywhisker implored the she-cat, who nodded once. The tortoiseshell got to her paws, rolling her scarred shoulders, and padded once more into the camp, her tail held high. Owleye's amber gaze tracked her departure until he, too, rose. He watched as Willowleaf yawned and settled more comfortably into her nest before hurrying to join Honeywhisker outside._

_As soon he left the safety of the reed den, rain drenched his pelt and chilled his very bones. Wind buffeted his flanks fiercely. Mud sucked at his paws as he padded across the hazy clearing, forced to follow his denmate's faint scent trail in the cloaking downpour. Before long, he was able to discern her dark form from the hectic rainfall and trotted up to her side. She seemed torn between a perch or a second trout, neither as large as the first but sizable._

_"You should take the perch," Owleye meowed over the din of the storm. "It's her favorite."_

_Honeywhisker stared up at him with searching eyes. "Did you see how she reacted when I told her it was trout?" she mewed. "It was like...she'd seen a ghost." The tabby swallowed nervously._

_"Well, you know how she gets," he answered, forcing cheer into his tone. "The slightest mention of -" He stopped himself just in time, unwilling to even say the name. The she-cat shook it off and grabbed the perch, then turned hurried back to the den. Owleye remained, his gaze fixed on the abandoned trout, as dark memories jumped to the forefront of his mind. With an involuntary shudder, he pulled himself from his thoughts and scrambled to follow Honeywhisker when he heard her yelp in surprise._

_The tom came to an abrupt halt just inside the den entrance, nearly colliding with the tortoiseshell's haunches. Within the gloom of the room, Willowleaf was struggling to stay on her paws as she took a shaky step out of her nest. The perch fell from Honeywhisker's jaws with a quiet splat, and she rushed to the silver tabby's side as she crumpled, half in and half out of the mossy nest. Owleye jumped to assist the she-cat in moving the queen back, and she his ear brushed her muzzle her lips moved to form barely-audible words._

_"I wanted...to see...the rain," she murmured, her voice raw, before losing consciousness._


End file.
